


A Private Man

by Ralkana



Category: Bones (TV)
Genre: Ficlet, Gen, Partnership
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-08-11
Updated: 2006-08-11
Packaged: 2017-10-22 11:19:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/237491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ralkana/pseuds/Ralkana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ficlet set sometime after <i>Two Bodies in the Lab</i> and probably after <i>The Woman in Limbo</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Private Man

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer -- _Bones_ is owned by Josephson Entertainment and Far Field Productions, in association with 20th Century Fox Television, based on the novels by Kathy Reichs. I own none of it, but if someone wants to give me Agent Booth for Christmas, I think I could be persuaded.

She knelt and glanced at the rib bone protruding from the damp ground, gently manipulating it with her fingertips as she made another mental note. The man next to her suddenly shifted his weight, his feet crunching lightly on the soil, and she was jolted out of her analysis.

Her annoyance flared. She had no idea why he felt he had to stand beside her while she worked, watching over her and scowling at everyone else, like a large, overbearing guard dog. It was just more pointless alpha-male posturing, and she was tired of it. He shifted again and she glared up at him, but her irritation faded as she saw pain flash across his features, hidden almost before she could be sure she'd seen it.

But she had seen it.

"Booth?" she asked quietly, not wanting to draw the attention of the others around them. When he looked down, she asked, "Are you okay?"

He nodded, but when she continued to stare up at him, he shrugged, biting his lip. "Yeah, Bones. I'm fine. It's just..." He glanced up at the sky, which had been steadily darkening all day, an ominous promise of the impending storm. "Sometimes, when the weather's changing, my feet ache a little. That's all."

It was all the explanation he offered, and all that she needed. The haunting images slid crisply back into her mind's eye, the films she'd had no right to examine but couldn't force herself to ignore.

Stark black and white, no secrets, the tiny lines -- more of them than she could easily count in one quick, clandestine glimpse -- giving undeniable evidence of the agony he had endured. Hidden, private pain that she'd blundered into. Just as she had now.

She didn't apologize, didn't tell him to go sit down, didn't ask him if he needed any of the ibuprofen she kept in her bag. None of that would have been welcome, and she knew it.

"I'm almost done," she said softly, and she began to work faster.


End file.
